Play a Sweet Lullaby for me
by GirlBehindTheBook
Summary: "Sherlock, play a sweet lullaby just for me." Evelyn Ross, an old friend of John Watson comes to 221B, looking for some place to stay, but she doesn't come willingly, her employer seems to want somebody uncorrupted to watch the residence of Baker Street, but what if she were to be just as Sherlock expected? Just like him, on the side of the angels, but not one of them?
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N: Okay, so this is my first attempt at an OC Sherlock fic, so please, enjoy and review and tell me what you think ^.^ I hope you find this good and enjoyable :D)**

Eve could feel her own hatred for the damp, cold, wet weather of London, it boiled up inside of her as the cold raindrops attacked her from the grey clouds that hung ahead, she turned the collar of her black jacket up, and hunched forward as her hair began to plaster to her face, she battled against the wind as she shoved her cold hands into her pockets.

It seemed that even growing up in Scotland had not prepared her for such weather, she tried to deny the fact as she tried to warm her numb hands. The cold air took her breath away, and she could remember the way her father would scowled her for not preparing for any situation at hand. But he was gone now, and so were the meaning of his words. She sneezed as she turned the corner onto a long, stretching street. She counted the doors, keeping her eyes on the brass numbers that just stood out against the sheets of splattering rain. She stopped as her eyes caught the numbers 221B, she hurried across the roads, checking only briefly that no cars came her way. She jogged up the concrete steps, rubbing her hands together before wrapping them around the cold brass knocker. She hit it once, and stood awkwardly, she leant back slightly, studying the sandwich shop that sat comfortably between the two large, greying buildings, and supposed it was 'A', although she was given no proof of the matter. Turning back to the black painted door, she noticed that nobody had answered it, and knocked again, her hand seemed to curl easily a second time, not flinching when she touched the cold door knocker, and she knocked three times this time, making sure to muster as much strength as possible when she did so. She waited again, the door opening, light and warmth fell upon her. Eve was shocked to see a small, surprised, older women standing at the door, looking at Eve with shocked eyes.

"Hello," Eve said in the friendliest, and kindest voice she could possibly muster in the state that she was in, "is this 221B Baker Street?" Her teeth chattered as she spoke, she felt awkward standing in front of the women in the rain, and hoped she had found in the right place. The woman seemed unfazed as soon as Eve opened her mouth, she seemed as though less surprised than Eve would have thought. "I am at the correct address right? I'm looking for a Doctor John Watson?" Eve nibbled on her bottom lip, she didn't like standing in the rain, and should she look down at her feet, she would be able to see the dark concrete puddle that she was making, feeling awful for it, but reminding herself it would dry. At that moment however, John had come down the stairs, hearing the voices at the front door. His eyes widened when he caught sight of the small women at the door.

"Evelyn?" He seemed pleasantly surprised when taking her fully in, she had grown since the last time he had seen her, she had become taller and thinner, her hair, although straggles of wet strands, had become notably longer.

"Doctor Watson!" Eve cried joyously, relieved that she had found the correct house. Although she was still out in the wet and the cold, her face brightened as she saw John, giving him a toothy grin. "How are you?" She asked him automatically, like it had been a routine drilled into her head from an early age. John nodded his head politely, still smiling as he looked at her.

"I'm alright thank you," then he quickly leapt from the bottom step, shocked to see her still standing out in the cold. "Come in, you must be soaked to the bone!" He quickly came forward, the older women moving out of his way as he ushered her in. Eve smiled gratefully as she shrugged off her jacket, it was still dripping wet and weighed heavy in her hands.

"Thank you." She told John as she felt the warmth of the hall consume her, the older women quickly closed the door, and Eve turned to John curiously, waiting for him to introduce her. John, only hesitant for a moment seemed quickly catch hold of what she was hinting.

"Ah, right," Eve giggled as John remembered his manners. "Mrs Hudson, I'd like you to meet Evelyn Ross." He gestured toward Eve, as though Mrs Hudson would be confused of the young women in which he referred to. Eve smiled politely, however, shifted uncomfortably. "Her father it, I mean was, an old friend of mine, we met while fighting in Fusiliers. Not to mention he taught me a lot of what I know today." Eve smiled sadly, she like the fact her father lived so proudly in John's memory, she never thought he lived so brightly in anyone else's but her own.

"Lovely to meet you, dear." Mrs Hudson smiled, holding out a hand to which Eve took, shaking it lightly, smiling as politely as she could.

"It's nice to meet you too, ma'am." Eve replied, John looked at her in surprise, finding she sounded like her father when introducing herself. As Mrs Hudson released Eve's hand, Eve tucked her wet hair from her face, some of her make up dripping down her face. Mrs Hudson looked Eve up and down before remembering the poor girl had been left out in the rain.

"Why don't you get yourself settled upstairs, and I'll bring you some clean towels so you can dry off. Are you hungry? I have some scones in the back?" She then looked at Eve and smiled. "Tea and Scones, yes that should do." He marched to the back of her flat, leaving Eve both pleasantly surprised and shocked by the reaction on Mrs Hudson, she turned to John, still happy to see him.

"She seems lovely." Eve concluded, she seemed to finally allow herself to let everything sink in, looking at John and smiling softly. It had been almost ten years since she had seen him, and yet he hadn't seemed to age, being in his presence began to make her feel nostalgic.

"Mrs Hudson?" He asked, as though her voice knocked him into reality again. "Oh yes, she's wonderful, just wonderful. I'm really sorry, but didn't your aunt say you would be coming on the twenty-second?" Eve looked at him startled.

"Oh, erm, Doctor Watson…" she trailed off, unsure of what to really say to John.

"Today's the twenty-second, isn't it?" John asked bashfully, Eve merely nodded, her wet hair slipping over her shoulder. John tightened his lips and faced to the left slightly, shifting his body weight. "Bugger," he cursed, then looked to Eve, "shall we go upstairs then?" She nodded gratefully, thankful that she no longer had to stand awkwardly in the hallway. She followed John up the steps, her hand brushing against the banister as she noticed the strange green colour on the walls. As she walked into the flat she automatically felt comfortable, it was cosy and clearly lived in, however, from what she remembered of John, it was clearly not decorated by him. John walked into the small kitchen attached to what was clearly the living area, pulling out two classes, and looked at her with a raised brow.

"Water?" He asked, and she nodded, still looking around the wall, surprised by the large, yellow smiling face spray-painted on the wall, small holes clearly visible, she looked at John surprised, but didn't dare question it, knowing that it was better to wait for John to explain it in his own time.

"Thank you." She took the cool glass of clear liquid from his hands, and taking a sip of it, feeling as it rushed through her body, and made her smile. She walked toward a black leather armchair only to be quickly halted by John calling out.

"Oh, no, that's Sherlock's." Eve looked at him confused, she blinked at the chair before turning to John, cocking her head to the side.

"Who's Sherlock?" She asked innocently, then her eyes widened as she slowly began to realise what was going on.

"Oh, I should have suspected it," she leaned forward and squeezed his hand gently, smiling brightly, "I'm so happy for you." John looked at her puzzled, not understanding where Eve was coming from.

"Suspected what?" John asked, his voice slightly squeaky, and his cheeks burning red. Eve seemed to smile encouragingly.

"Oh, don't worry, it's nothing to be ashamed of, I mean, who hasn't exper-" she paused, her eyes widening. "Wait, you're not gay…are you?" Eve muttered, her cheeks blushing, she leaped back slightly as though he were about to murder her, a flow of apologies falling from her lips.

"Evelyn, I'm not – I'm not gay, no." He said calmly, she seemed remember meeting him as a child in that moment, a young man straight out of Army Medical Training, ready to help serve his country as best he could, how he held himself so different now. She remembered being an anxious teenager, wanting to follow in both John and her father's footsteps, John encouraging her to do what she wanted.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry, God, John! You must be so angry!" She gushed, but still she couldn't help but take in the lines etched deeply into his once flawless skin, how much pain had those eyes seen, how much suffering and death? More than they deserved, she thought, she was now tugging at her wet hair in embarrassment, attempting to hide her face. John couldn't help but smile however, reminded of the young teenage girl, who was clumsy on her feet and awkward with her words, she may have grown into a beautiful young women, but she hadn't changed in personality. He had never met her mother, but after meeting her father, supposed she had gotten this from her mother.

"No, it's alright Evelyn, anyway, what brought you to London? Surely it wasn't concerns of my sexuality." He asked her, leaning into his own chair, Eve looked around, dragging a black, plastic chair forward, and sat in it, crossing it and looking at John, she mulled over her mind, thinking of what had brought her to London.

"Oh, of course not. I…moved out actually." She said awkwardly, shifting her knees uncomfortably. John leaned forward surprised, his eyes widened.

"Moved out? But weren't you living with that boyfriend, Alex, Adam….?" John trailed off as tried to think of a name, Eve took a sip of her water before she answered, unsure of how to phrase her answer correctly.

"Alistair, and he was my fiancé." She explained softly, John seemed to look at her sadly, his eyes searching her face.

"I'm sorry, it's just, the last your Aunt told me, you two had just got a place together, I must have missed a large part of your life, huh?" Eve nodded at him, and twisted at the hair-tie around her wrist, pinging it slightly.

"No, it's alright, we did buy a flat together, but at the time I was unemployed, hunting for work. Then, when I came home early one day, I got him between the legs…." She trailed off as she remembered walking into her the flat, grinning brightly, she had just gotten an interview and couldn't help but tell Alistair the good news as quickly as possible. John looked at her sadly, his face twisting into a frown.

"Evelyn, I'm sorry. I just," he ran his hand through his hair, "it must have been really hard finding him in bed with another women." John said softly, only to cause Eve burst into a fit of laughter, she couldn't help it, as she sat on the chair, soaking wet, in front of a man she hadn't seen for ten years.

"I'm sorry," she gasped for breath, and looked up with John, tears in her eyes. "It wasn't another women, no, it was another man. The man who was meant to be Best Man at our wedding." She explained coolly, John seemed to splutter, slightly embarrassed by the automatic assumption, realising it must have been harder for her to find fiancé in the arms of another man. He wanted to offer her condolences, but it seemed too premature for that. Were her and Alistair able to communicate? Or did she absolutely hate him? He was older than her, her father's age and felt that maybe he should give her some advice, maybe a kind word. But he knew her far too well, she was as stubborn as her father, and wouldn't have listened to her. Then, taking a good look at her, he understood that dwelling on the past may seem all but too much for her, and leaned back in understanding, she wasn't bothering to dwell on the past, and nor would he. It seemed in that moment, Evelyn heard the door of the upstairs, and she turned her head, her eyes widening only a fraction. A tall, lean young man had entered, his dark hair curled at the ends as it brushed against the collar of his long, black jacket. His purple scarf hid his throat, his hands were gloved in black leather, and in his hand was a clear plastic bag containing a…

"Is that a _liver_?" Eve blurted out in disbelief, the man glanced up at her with a fraction of a second, his eyes cold, he seemed emotionless as he looked down at the bag in which he clutched and nodded his head.

"Very observant. She is a smart one John, however, she is a bit young for you." The man's tone was mono, he looked at John curiously, and then glanced back at Eve, who sat very curiously, keeping her eye on him. She then turned to John and raised a brow at his pinking ears.

"Oh no, we aren't a couple," she amended, seeing as John didn't seem to try. The man looked at her, curiously. "Sherlock, I presume?" She asked, holding out a hand for him to shake, he took it, the leather of the gloves were cold, and she could figure that he had not walked as she had. He uncurled his hand from her small one, and looked at her more than curiously now, in fact, with vague interest. She could hear John shift from his chair as he stood.

"How did you know that?" He asked, clearly curious more so than she would have thought him to be. She grinned back at him, her brow hair that was now drying, curled slightly at her hips. Now that John could see her properly without her slouching or the jacket, he could see she had definitely grown from when she had last seen him. Her body curved in all of the right places, it was clear she probably worked her, from her father's strict military regime, it wouldn't surprise John if she were still highly involved in sports, as she had been as a child.

"Don't be surprised Doctor Watson, I read your blog, dad had insisted on it, said I might learn from it." She looked at Sherlock and raised a brow. "I thought you would be shorter." She said looking him up and down, she could hear John snort in the back ground, as though trying to contain the laughter. "Oh, and I'm Eve – I mean Evelyn Ross, I'm an old friend of John's." She said softly, Sherlock was still looking at her in interest, as though she were placed on a small glass slide under the microscope she noticed on the table.

"Eve, yes, you chose that name because it distances you from your family. Your mother, she called you Lyn, which is why you never used that name, and your father, judging by how you hold yourself called you something_ cute_ in most people's eyes, Evie?" She looked at him startled, but not overly so, giving nothing away as she smiled, turning to John again, her blue eyes flashing.

"You said he was good." She took her seat again, not wanting to get any closer to the liver. Sherlock walked toward the kettle, placing the liver in the kettle, Eve raised a brow at him, and wrinkled her nose. "I'm not drinking anything out of that." She indicated toward the kettle, John was frowning at Sherlock, who turned to look at Eve expectantly.

"Aren't you going to ask how I know?" Sherlock asked her, Eve shrugged, taking a swig from her water and shaking her head. Placing the glass down, she crossed her legs.

"Oh, I can guess how you know, Mr Holmes, but I wouldn't wish to startle you." John looked at Eve as though he had never met her before, she was withholding something, and hoped Sherlock could guess what it is, at that moment a phone began to ring, it was the typical iPhone alert, Eve leaped from where she sat, unlocking the phone and answering, her tone changing to that of something sweet and innocent.

"Hello, Aunt Penelope." She spoke casually, she smiled as though the women were in front of her. She turned to John, and smiled apologetically. "Do you mind if I pop out for a minute, it's just, my aunt." She said softly, pointing to the smartphone. John nodded and showed her out, closing the door silently so as not to disrupt her phone call.

Xxx

"Her aunt is calling her." Sherlock said dully, looking up at John, he seemed unsurprised by the matter, and crossed his arms.

"Well yes, I wouldn't blame her Penelope for checking up on her, Evelyn did live with her for a number of years after her father passed." John explained, Sherlock looked at John as though her were stupid, although John had gotten rather used to that look.

"I know her father died, but she didn't live with her aunt." Sherlock explained as he filled the kettle that he had just placed the liver in with water, and began to put it on the boil, surprising John slightly, but he didn't ask, getting used to the strange quirks that were Sherlock.

"What do you mean? Of course she lived with Penelope, she had nowhere else to go…" John trailed off, staring at the door where Eve stood just outside, Sherlock didn't seem to reply until John turned to him, finally catching his train. "Except here." Sherlock had seemed to lose interest at this point, taking a wooden spoon from a drawer and opening the kettle, poking at the liver inside. John looked at him in slight disgust, but just shook his head. Sherlock smirked, as though he owned the world. The door handle twisted slightly, and Sherlock seemed to look at John before mouthing 'watch' and stepping out of the kitchen, leaving the wooden spoon on the counter. Eve walked in, shoving her phone back into her pocket and smiling apologetically.

"I'm really sorry, she always worries, you know how she is." She said to John softly, he nodded, he had known Penelope for years, and had grown closer to her through the years by keeping tabs on Eve, who had seemed reckless for a while after her father had died. Sherlock was busying himself at the mantle and Eve looked at him curiously, he had shed off his jacket now, and folded it over the leather chair, the scarf hung loosely beside it. She raised a brow at him as he turned to her.

"I gather you haven't just came here for a cup of tea and a catch up?" Eve gulped and nibbled her bottom lip, he was correct, she just looked at him and nodded her head calmly.

"Yes, that's true, I didn't." She admitted, shuffling her feet, she hadn't quite thought how she was going to ask it, but Sherlock however, began to speak before she could even get a word out.

"So, I suppose you want to be in the homeless network? Clearly you look the part," he began, looking her up and down, Eve glared, looking offended. "And um, yep. Now, your duties. I'll start you off on something simple, could be dangerous. But don't worry, if you are incapacitated or injured in anyway," he turned to his bookshelf to busy himself with something, before turning back to Eve, "I can always find someone else. I should add by the way, in the event of your death or disappearance I will make every effort to inform your next of kin, unless that proves impossible, or I forget." Eve looked at Sherlock slightly startled, before John stood up, glaring at Sherlock like an agitated father.

"Now Sherlock-" Eve blinked curiously, cocking a brow.

"No, Mr Holmes, I haven't come here to join whatever the 'homeless network' is, and I don't bloody well fit the part thank you very much." She placed her hand on her hips, glaring at Sherlock, she was beginning to understand now why John acted like father to him, and hadn't told her about him at first.

"Then why are you here, you could visit your aunt, she doesn't live far from here, but you choose here, why?" Eve couldn't help but feel uncomfortable as she shifted on her feet, and looked at John in the eyes, she didn't quite know how to phrase it.

"Well, you see Doctor Watson," she began, twisting her hands, "you were close to dad, and he, he said if I ever needed anyone to turn to and he wasn't here," she gulped and her voice wavered, however, she kept her eyes fixed on John however. "Dad said I could always trust you, and if I ever needed a helping hand, I could turn to you. So, I'm here to ask you…can I stay here." John looked at her, startled for a moment, however, Mrs Hudson had bustled in, carrying a tray of tea and scones, looking at Eve surprised.

"Oh, are you staying dear? The boys hadn't mentioned anything about another tenant?" Mrs Hudson said, as she placed the tray down on the table, looking at both the men then Eve, a smile still on her face. Eve blushed and rubbed the back of her head casually.

"It wouldn't be for long, just until I find a place of my own, please Doctor Watson." She pleaded, John seemed frustrated for a moment, he couldn't decide whether or not to consult Sherlock on the idea, Sherlock however, smiled, it was cool and it was just the corner of his lips that twitched, but it was enough for Eve, as he looked at her calmly.

"As long as you pay some of the rent, Miss Ross, you can stay here for as long as you need." John looked at him in surprise, but all Eve could manage was a large toothy grin, that seemed to bring a little light into the dark flat.


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N: So I have decided to write the second chapter of this, please tell me what you think and possibly what you might was to happen, no promises that that is what will happen, but I want to hear suggestions. Please enjoy and feel free to review ^.^)**

_Few Days Later_

Eve groaned as she rolled on the sofa, her head pounding as she shifted under the frayed blanket that she couldn't quite remember crawling under the night before. She was still in the clothes she had worn the day before, and her make up felt as though it was smeared across her face. She smiled sleepily as she cracked her eyes open, at first it had been like the last couple of mornings. The sun shown throw the open window, Mrs Hudson had left tea and biscuits for John, Eve and Sherlock. She listened to the silence, both the men were either in bed, or on a case, it was never one or the other. She turned onto her back and wrapped her hands around her torso and looked up at the ceiling. It was painted white, and not a single cobweb settled, it seemed even Sherlock kept house, or maybe Mrs Hudson did it, despite saying she wasn't a housekeeper.

"Morning." A deep, slow voice greeted her, causing her to jump up in shock. Sherlock sat on his chair, his long legs crossed, and a newspaper in his hand. She was startled to see him sitting in the chair, he must have heard her move because he was clearly not looking at her, or paying her any mind. She found it difficult to picture Sherlock without John.

"Where's John?" She asked, her voice was soft with sleep, and it was clear she hadn't gotten enough rest in the past couple of days, Sherlock closed the paper and folded, and picking up a mug from hi side and drank it. His hair was still slightly messy, so she figured it to not be too early. She looked at his feet puzzled, wondering why he wore shoes when there was no point in it when he wasn't going out.

"He's getting the shopping." Sherlock stated blatantly as he drunk his tea. Eve shifted up into a sitting position. The white blanket pulled around her, it was old, but comfortable, and it smelled delightful. Her long hair curled and stuck up at odd angles, she wrinkled her nose at her own stench. On the table in front of her, the large folder she had been studying the night before, was closed. She couldn't remember any of it, putting it away, piling the pen and highlighters beside it neatly, putting the blanket on her. She looked at Sherlock as she nibbled her lip.

"Eh, Sherlock, who did all this?" She asked him, sweeping a hand in the general direction of the blanket and her work things. Sherlock glanced at them and shrugged at her, placing, what she presumed was the empty mug, down on the table. He unfurled the paper again and began to read.

"Me." He said dully, as if he were in no need for conversation. Eve's eyes darted quickly down to the folder on the table, her eyes turning a light shade of pink.

"You didn't read it, did you?" She asked, pointing to the black folder in slight fear. He wasn't meant to read any of it. Sherlock glanced over the top of the paper, and looked at the folder with the upmost disinterested look.

"No, why? Is the snivelling nonsense of a mundane job to be of any importance to me?" He asked her, Eve glared at him as she stood, wrapping the blanket around her. She moved slowly to the table near Sherlock, picking up the last full mug. It was still slightly warm, and she took it easily in both her hands, and sipped it slightly.

"It's of no interest, clearly. And how do you know it's about work if you didn't read it?" She asked him, shifting back to where she had slept, and curling her legs under her. Sherlock took a quickened breath, as if the idea was humours.

"It's a bit obvious isn't it? I mean, it's not like you're a student, and you've only shown interest in reading, not writing. So the only logical explanation is work, which you still haven't discussed with either me or John, which makes me more curious about that mundane folder." Sherlock explained, Eve thought about it. It did make sense, not that she would admit it to Sherlock. She reached across, and took the folder protectively in her arms, so that Sherlock would stop gazing at it.

"Well, it's nothing interesting in it to make you curious." She told him flatly as she sat it down gently next to him. He was now looking it with more and more interest. She glared at him as she laid her hand down gently on top of the folder protectively. Hoping he hadn't read what was inside it. Eve's eyes widened when she caught sight of something moving in the background, her lips parted slightly in fear. Sherlock looked at her curiously, studying her facial expression. "Sherlock." She whispered, watching the shadow move, knowing it didn't belong to either of them. He looked at her quizzically, then followed her eye sight, seeing the shadow sneaking about the room, he stood slowly, and moved backward, his eyes flickering to Eve and back to the shadow, and as though making sure it wasn't Eve's shadow.

"Eve, stay where you are, and keep an eye on that shadow, if it comes near you, fight." Sherlock instructed, Eve nodded her head and quickly shifted the folder under the couch cushion, she stood, sheading the blanket from her shoulders, she watched Sherlock exit the room, her eyes tracked the shadow, as she searched the room for a weapon. It wasn't John, it wasn't Mrs Hudson, and it certainly wasn't either her or Sherlock. Eve felt the heavy arm fall upon her in that moment, pulling her tightly to a body, she let out a shriek as she tried to fight back, but was incapable of doing so.

"Sherlock!" She screamed for him, kicking and scratching at her attacker that rounded something cold against her throat, her body remained stiff, but she stopped her struggled, she could feel the blade push against her throat as her attacker hushed her. Sherlock came rushing throw, halting as he took sight of the attacker, he looked at Eve first, and she was small and slight compared to her masked attacker, whom was heavily scarfed, his face shrouded in the darkness of the fabric. He could see the sword pressed against Eve's throat, he seemed more cautious than Eve had ever seen him before, and was advancing slowly toward them.

"I wouldn't do that." He said smoothly, his eyes darting down to Eve, who wasn't quite sure as to where he was coming from, but watched Sherlock carefully, ready to move when he told her too. "Ah, you don't seem to know who she is. She's the daughter of a military man, and a very specific one of that, the daughter of the Berserker. So when I told her to fight…." He trailed off, and Eve finally caught one, she sifted left then right, pressing herself closer to her attackers chest before kicking out, breaking free quickly and rushing beside Sherlock, she looked at him slightly surprised before setting her eyes back to her attacker as she watched him.

"How did you know all that about me? How did you know it would click?" She asked him, Sherlock didn't look at her as he kept his eyes settled on the intruder.

"John told me a lot about you last night. I was curious, and you were apparently well trained in John's stories, I took a chance I suppose." She glared, but kept her head held high, her eyes darted left to right before she grinned at him.

"Do you want to take a chance again?" She asked him, he smiled slightly, and nodded his head, it seemed as though they moved as one, predicting the moves of one and other easily, the attacker slashed at Sherlock, who backed up carefully and ducked one way and then the other to avoid the blows. The man backed Sherlock up as far as the sofa and took another swing at him. Ducking under the sword, Sherlock dropped onto the sofa in a sitting position. The attacker lifted his sword above his head with both hands and Sherlock raised a leg, kicking hard at the man's chest and shoving him backwards. As the man stumbled back across the room, Sherlock got to his feet and took an all-important moment to straighten his jacket before charging across the room towards the man. Eve kicked the coffee table, forcing it to skirt across the room behind the attack, making him stumble backward and onto the hard wooden floor.

"Fast." Sherlock complimented, as the two came toward the attacker. The attacker scrambled up, holding the sword horizontally in both hands, pushing Eve into the kitchen, she was quick and nimble, taking a hold of the man's wrists, Eve fell back onto the kitchen table and the man followed her down, trying to press the edge of the blade into Eve's throat once again. Grimacing with the effort, Eve pushed the man's right wrist upwards to keep the blade from cutting her. The point of the sword began to dig into the table to Eve's right. She rose his left leg and kneed the man in the side several times and, as this began to weaken the man's grip, Eve forces herself upwards again. The sword tip gouged a long slash across the top of the table.

Eve was on her feet again and the fight had moved back into the living room. The attacker now took a swing at Sherlock who ducked underneath the sword and then quickly straightened up, pointing over the man's shoulder.

"Look!" Sherlock shouted. The man had already half turned in the direction with the swing of his sword and was also momentary distracted by their reflections in the mirror over the fireplace behind him. Sherlock took advantage and swings a powerful uppercut to the man's chin, and the man dropped unconscious into Sherlock's armchair. Sherlock straightened up and immediately checked his reflection in the mirror, straightening his jacket and cuffs and then dusted himself down. He looked down at the man with disdain, as if indignant that he messed his suit up. Eve grinned at Sherlock, looking down at the attack as she took a deep breath.

"We make a good team." She said softly, Sherlock nodded his head calmly.

"I must say, I agree with you, Evelyn." He grinned at her as he too looked down at the attack, he seemed out of breath, but his suit was fixed, and he seemed happy by the fact.

Xxx

Eve leaned against the kitchen doorframe, having changed her clothes, and having a mug clasped in her hands as Sherlock sat calmly, reading. She grinned at him, giggling, even Sherlock smiled and chuckled slightly.

"What do you think John would have said if he had caught us?" She asked him, and he shook his head as he kept his eyes focused on the book. He seemed to have remained on the same page for the last half hour, as Eve walked toward the sofa again, curling up easily on it. He looked up from her book.

"Don't you own colour?" He asked her, she rolled her eyes at him, so they were back to their usual selves? She looked at him, and found how hypocritical the question was.

"You barely wear any!" She shouted accusingly, he looked down at himself, and raised a brow, then looked back at her, as though she were colour-blind.

"My shirt is light blue?" He questioned, making sure with both her, and himself, that he was right in saying it was colour.

"It looks more grey then blue." She pointed out to him, and Sherlock seemed confused for a moment, he tugged on the collar.

"John picked this out." He told her smoothly, at that moment, a loud bang caused both Eve and Sherlock to jump as they looked at the door, they could hear the footsteps come up the stairs and Sherlock went quickly back to his book, and Eve quickly pulled the folder out from under the cushion, opening it and pretending to read. At that moment the door slammed opened, and John opened, looking slightly murderous, his cheeks flushed red. He stopped inside the room and looked around at each of the occupants of the room. Sherlock glanced up from his book.

"You took your time." He said coolly, Eve looked from John to Sherlock questioningly. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but she thought that John would have least brought in some plastic bags with the shopping in it. However, he held nothing apart from his keys, and it confused her greatly.

"Yeah, I didn't get the shopping." John throw in casually, shedding his coat and hanging it up, taking his seat next to Eve, who raised a brow at him, Sherlock however, seemed angered now by the fact that no shopping had been brought in. He looked at John angrily.

"What? Why not?" Sherlock whined like a child, Eve closed her folder when she caught John trying to look at him, and looked at him with raised brows.

"Yes, why not?" She asked him, John seemed to look annoyed at both his flatmates, blowing out some air as he rubbed his face with his hands, like he was withholding a secret he wanted neither of them to know.

"I had a row, in the shop, with a chip-and-pin machine." John said tetchily, causing Eve to hold in a giggle, but it came out in a strange strangled sound. Sherlock seemed to lower his book completely, and looked at John as though he were mad.

"You…you had a row with a machine?" Sherlock questioned as though it were almost impossible to actually have a row at a machine. _Oh Sherlock, we both know it wasn't the first time he rowed with a machine, and it most certainly won't be the last. _Eve thought coolly, as she looked and John like he was some sort of humours being that had been placed in front of her for her own enjoyment.

"Sort of. It sat there and I shouted abuse. Have you got cash?" John asked Sherlock who held back and smile and nodded toward the kitchen. John stood up, and went to go collect Sherlock's wallet.

"Take my card." Sherlock told him, as soon as John had left his heat however, Eve consolved into a fit of giggles, unable to control herself, she clutched her sides as she laughed, causing John to turn back and glare at her. Sherlock grinned back at her.

"One of you could always go up yourselves. The pair of you have been sitting here all morning. Neither of you have moved since I left." John scolded them both, Eve and Sherlock shared a glance, both trying to hide the grin on their faces. "And what happened to that case you were offered – the Jaria Diamond?" John asked, Sherlock shrugged.

"Not interested." He stated bluntly, and brushing it off easily. She had been sure she had remembered hearing John and Sherlock discussing the case, but she didn't particularly care for it either, and couldn't blame Sherlock for finding it disinteresting, even she found so. It was a rather boring sounding case, and she wouldn't have taken it either, just for the shear fact of how easy it sounded, and how quickly it could be solved, should the police have looked at it better and taken more time over it, instead of running straight to Sherlock. Sherlock took a piece of paper, using it as a bookmark, and closing the book, he put it down easily. His eyes narrowed slightly as he saw the attacker's sword on the floor, tapping his foot hastily on the floor, catching Eve's attention. She looked down, catching sight of the sword, sliding it out of sight before John could see it. "I sent them a message." Sherlock told John sternly. John had finally found a card he could use, but paused so he could bend over to look more closely at the new long narrow gouge in the top of the table. He sighed and ran his finger along the cut, he rubbed at it in case it was just a mark that could be removed.

"The pair of you." He whispered exasperated, realising it was probably a bad idea that he had left Eve and Sherlock alone. He looked across at his flatmates and tutted pointedly. Both Sherlock and Eve shook their heads innocently, John turned to leave, trotting down the stairs, Sherlock smirked as John left and turned to Eve.

"Think he's suspicious?" He asked her, and she grinned at him and shrugged casually as she pulled her hair out her face into a bun, tying it tightly with the hair-tie she kept around her wrist.

"Possibly, you never know what to do with him." She answered, Sherlock seemed to stand and held out his hand to Eve. She looked at him surprised, staring at his hand. "What is it?" She asked him, and he smirked.

"John says you can dance, prove it." She grinned at him, taking his hand, it was small in his cold one, but she merely shrugged.

"Happily." She told him, challengingly.

Xxx

"Don't worry about me! I can manage!" Eve could hear John's sarcastic voice from the bathroom, her purple toothbrush was still in her mouth as she poked her head into the hall, and she caught a glimpse of John, wobbling around with a pile of carrier bags, trying to keep his balance. She could see the glare of the laptop screen and quickly ran to the sink, spitting out the toothpaste from her mouth, rinsing the brush and then rushing through to see what was going on, she leaned over Sherlock's shoulder curiously. He had his hands clasped under his chin, looking at the screen with curiosity and confusion. "Is that my computer?" John asked as the also looked down at the computer screen, studying the large homepage of an email, from a man called Sebastian Willkes, taking only vague interest about the thing to do with the bank, Eve leaned against John, bored.

"Of course." Sherlock said as he began to type, John looked angered as he glared at Sherlock.

"What?!" He shouted causing Eve to jump back a bit, he looked at her and smiled apologetically, "sorry." He mumbled, Sherlock just shrugged, not bothering to look at either of them as he typed.

"Mine was in the bedroom." Sherlock said calmly, and Eve smirked and the fact he had used the term _the bedroom._

"What, and you couldn't be bothered getting up?" John asked hotly, crossing his arms over his chest. "It was password protected!" John shouted, to which Eve blushed and lifted her hand timidly like a shy school girl.

"I'm to blame for that." She mumbled, John looked at her surprised, his mouth opening and closing like a dying fish.

"How did you manage that?" He asked her, Eve twisting her hands awkwardly, she didn't know how to explain it clearly, and she just found it easy to hack into things without really thinking. John was still surprised when Sherlock stood quickly, looking at both his companions and rubbing his hands together, looking at them both in all seriousness.

"I need to go to the bank, come on you two." He ordered, picking up his jacket and scarf and putting them on, Eve quickly following his lead with his jacket and shoes, he grinned at her. "Come Miss Ross, let's get out the house."


End file.
